


tell me you're mine (like no one’s watching)

by missakwatson



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Derek Has Feelings, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, some mention of boners but nothin' explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 09:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11825541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missakwatson/pseuds/missakwatson
Summary: Compared to the months his sisters had spent frantically preparing for the wedding, the ceremony seemed to fly by in a sweaty, anxious daze. It felt like only moments passed from when Derek donned his crown and wedding jacket in the early morning to the evening’s festive banquet, where the wine flowed freely and his new husband’s amber eyes sparkled as he regaled the court with tales of his youthful misadventures.Marrying Stiles wasn’t an inconvenience by any stretch of the imagination, but as Derek paced around his room later that night awaiting his betrothed’s arrival, he realized how woefully little he really knew about the inner workings of Beacon’s crown prince.





	tell me you're mine (like no one’s watching)

**Author's Note:**

> From my tumbles: A 3k arranged marriage/royalty AU that got a little out of hand. Un-betaed, so any typos are my own fault! Title comes from Kesha's "Finding You," which is on her absolutely amazing Rainbow album. Enjoy!

Compared to the months his sisters had spent frantically preparing for the wedding, the ceremony seemed to fly by in a sweaty, anxious daze. It felt like only moments passed from when Derek donned his crown and wedding jacket in the early morning to the evening’s festive banquet, where the wine flowed freely and his new husband’s amber eyes sparkled as he regaled the court with tales of his youthful misadventures.

Marrying Stiles wasn’t an inconvenience by any stretch of the imagination, but as Derek paced around his room later that night awaiting his betrothed’s arrival, he realized how woefully little he really knew about the inner workings of Beacon’s crown prince.

As the second child of Queen Talia, his ruler and Alpha, Derek always expected that an arranged marriage could be a possibility. He just hadn’t really been paying _attention,_ occupying the years with studying and training until suddenly, a little over a year ago, his mother and eldest sister, Laura, approached him about the possibility of marrying Stiles.

“The union would be primarily political, but I would never require anything of you that would cause undue distress,” his mother had assured him, holding her only son’s face in her hands. “Stiles has grown into a truly lovely young man, and his _intellect —_ gods know we could use a strategist like him to keep Peter in check.”

Derek had smiled, and spent a week or so in thought before requesting to meet this brilliant young prince of whom his mother spoke so highly. It felt like a good idea at the time, but Derek’s nerves kept him a wreck the entire week Stiles and his brother had spent visiting Triskele. Though their private conversations were few and far between, Derek was immediately taken with Stiles. His mother had been absolutely correct — Stiles was impressively well-read, and his sense of humor crackled and sparked in a way that attracted Derek down to his core. When he nervously broached the topic of betrothal two nights before Stiles’ departure, he almost fled and vomited — or vomited, then fled —when Stiles confidently agreed. _He chose_ me, Derek still thought nearly every day leading up to the wedding. _He’s going to be my mate._

When Stiles arrived in Triskele a fortnight before the wedding, Derek’s heart skipped a beat upon seeing him for the first time. Laura and Cora delighted in teasing their brother about his obvious infatuation, but also graciously escorted Stiles around the palace so Derek wouldn’t have to entertain him alone.

Now, though — it was done. They were _married_ , and entertaining Stiles — in every sense of the word — was Derek’s responsibility. What was Stiles expecting? Did he plan to consummate the marriage tonight, according to his people’s tradition? Did he wish to share chambers with Derek at all, now or in the future? How many blankets did he like to sleep under? Was he an early riser, or did he grudgingly extricate himself from his bed mid-morning like Derek? Could— A soft knock at the door stilled Derek’s racing thoughts, and he halted his pacing to hesitantly move toward the door. The banquet had finally been winding down when Derek had taken his leave, and he was certain Stiles had come to see him. Derek took a deep breath, and opened the door.

His new husband stood on the other side, hands clasped behind his back and keen eyes searching Derek’s face. “Good evening, husband,” Stiles said, smiling playfully at the words. 

“I… Hello. Good evening,” Derek stuttered.

“May I come in?” Stiles inquired patiently, nodding toward Derek’s room. _Way to go, you idiot_ , Derek scolded himself. _You can’t even invite your own husband into your quarters?_

“Oh, um, yes. Yes, of course.” Derek stepped out of the doorway, running a frantic hand through his hair as Stiles stepped into his modest bedroom.

Stiles’ gaze flitted around the room, noting the maps and sketches tacked to the walls and the carefully organized books stacked on his desk.

“This is the first time I’ve been in here, you know. I like it,” he remarked, smiling encouragingly at Derek. His smile faltered, however, when he noticed Derek’s obvious nerves. 

“Is everything alright, Derek?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Derek said emphatically. “I just… You… You make me nervous,” he admitted, mustering up his pride in order to speak honestly to his new husband.

Stiles laughed, a bright, unexpected sound that filled Derek’s ears and assuaged his bubbling nerves. “I’m not very intimidating on sight, Derek, but I’m flattered.”

“I… I want to get off on the right foot. With everything. I want…” Derek faltered, searching for the right words to express how much he cared about making Stiles feel valued.

“What do you want, Derek?” Stiles asked softly, golden gaze meeting Derek’s.

Derek took a deep breath before releasing the slew of emotions he had kept pent up for months since  officially promising his hand to Stiles.

“I want you to be happy. I want you to like me, to like living here. I want to know you, to really _know_ you and understand you, and I feel like an _idiot_ but I’m standing here and you’re my husband and I don’t even know what you like in bed or if you _want_ to bed me or—“

“Derek.”

Derek refocused his gaze on Stiles’. “Breathe with me, darling.” _Darling_. Derek was going to assess that later, when he had remembered how to inhale and exhale in a predictable pattern once again.

"Derek," Stiles said again firmly, holding his gaze level with his husband's. 

"Everything you swore to me today — to care for me, protect me — did you mean it?"

Derek's brow furrowed. "Yes," he answered plainly. _Of course_. How could the answer be anything but yes? Stiles was whip smart, witty, terrifyingly insightful, beautiful—

Stiles smiled easily and cupped Derek's cheek. "That's why I chose you, Prince Derek Hale of Triskele in the northern reaches. Do you think you're the only proposal my father or I ever received for my hand? But I knew I had finally found my partner the moment I met you. I... I just knew,” Stiles said, gently running his thumb over Derek’s cheekbone.

“I knew you would make me happy. I knew that I would _want_ to get to know you, and spend time here with you and your family. It makes me nervous too, not knowing what you like, but you should never doubt that I want _you,_ Derek,” Stiles said firmly.

A weight Derek hadn't even been aware of lifted at Stiles' admission, and a tiny spark of jealousy flared in his stomach at the idea of anyone else spending the rest of their lives with his prince. "I knew too," he said in a whisper, leaning into his husband's caress. He let his eyes flutter shut at the warmth of Stiles' touch, confident in displaying his infatuation now that he knew it was shared. 

“I honestly didn’t know how tonight would end, but I knew I wanted to see you before I went to sleep,” Stiles admitted.

“Do you…” Derek swallowed, his nerves a lump in his throat. “Do you wish to consummate the marriage?”

Stiles looked at his husband appraisingly, carefully moving to clasp Derek’s hands in his. “I would like to do so, hopefully soon, but I absolutely can wait until we’re both ready, if that’s what you need. You just have to tell me, Derek. What do you need?”

Derek licked his lips, gaze raking over Stiles’ face. _What gods known and unknown are smiling upon me? How did I get so lucky?_

“Our people, Lycans, place value on connection above all else. I know my mother already discussed it with you,” _a conversation I will_ not _dwell on,_ “and… I’d like to give you the mating mark.”

Stiles smiled at his husband. “I’d like that too, husband. I trust you.”

Derek’s heart surged yet again, pleased with the knowledge and respect his human husband possessed for Derek’s people’s traditions. “Okay,” he said. “I’d like to start with that.”

Stiles nodded, gaze falling to Derek’s mouth. "So," he murmured, "How do you want me?"

Derek exhaled sharply, willing his eyes not to flare blue at Stiles' intentionally suggestive inquiry. 

After a moment of consideration, he stepped back. Stiles' hands fell from his, and he stood before Derek with a look of patient intrigue. “Take off your boots,” Derek said, the end of the sentence rising into a question. He knew how he wanted Stiles, but he wanted his husband to know that his consent was paramount as well. 

Stiles quickly removed his boots and socks, tossing them next to Derek’s own. He stood in front of Derek expectantly, watching as he stepped forward to close the short distance between them.

Carefully, Derek reached forward unclasped the heavy, blood-red capelet he knew was the traditional marriage garment of Stiles’ mother’s people. He didn’t know how Stiles’ mother had died, but he knew what it meant to him to proudly carry her culture alongside his own. _Our children will know, too_ , Derek thought absently, gently laying the garment down safely on his desk chair.

He turned back to his husband, who was watching Derek intently with a soft smile playing at his lips. Derek unfastened his own overcoat, nearly sighing with relief as he discarded the thick, brocaded garment.

He reached over to Stiles next, gently tugging at the bottom of his soft white tunic. Stiles lifted his arms expectantly as Derek slid the garment over his head. Derek’s hand brushed his husband’s side as he did so, and he noted with pleasure the stutter in Stiles’ heartbeat when their skin made contact.

Now shirtless, a mix of lust and nerves visibly bled into Stiles’ otherwise assured demeanor. His cheeks and chest were flushed, and Derek found it hard to keep his movements even and measured as the smell of Stiles’ arousal rolled over him in waves.

Derek allowed himself to touch his husband, placing a hand on the side of his neck and another brushing against his hip. “You’re beautiful,” Derek whispered, heady with desire at the warmth of his husband’s skin and the quickening pace of his heart.

He stepped back to remove his own tunic, pleased that Stiles simply watched. He was allowing Derek to undress him, to set the pace in spite of his own maddening arousal, and Derek’s wolf preened at the intuitive understanding shown by his mate.

He turned his attention back to his husband, aware of the way Stiles’ throat bobbed as Derek unfastened his breeches. He slowly moved them down Stiles’ legs, pressing a guiding hand to the small of his back as he stepped out of them and kicked them away.

Derek moved back to admire his husband, both men standing proudly before one another. He flushed as his gaze traveled down Stiles’ body, clad only in his thin white undershorts. They were tented obviously in the front, Stiles’ cock hardened and pressing against the insubstantial fabric. Derek flushed with pride once more — Stiles was clearly enjoying this too, if his erection and blown pupils were any indication.

Derek stepped forward to speak softly into Stiles’ ear. “Can I pick you up?” he asked, swearing he could feel Stiles’ skin practically vibrate so close to his own.

“Yes,” Stiles murmured, locking his gaze with Derek’s. Derek carefully placed an arm behind his husband’s knees and another behind his back, quickly gathering Stiles into his arms. Stiles laughed as Derek easily picked him up off the ground, a sound Derek deeply wished to hear every day for the rest of his life.

Derek knew Stiles wasn’t ignorant — he understood the significance of what Derek was doing. It wasn’t a requirement by any means, but physically carrying ones’ mate to their marriage bed before claiming them was a symbolic gesture of protection and provision for Derek’s kind. After closing the few short feet to their bed, Derek crouched down and carefully deposited Stiles on his side. In the oldest customs, a wolf’s mate would lay face down to receive the bite, but Derek had never desired that. He carefully laid his body behind his husband’s, moving one of his arms under Stiles’ head and the other over his waist. His free hand found his husband’s, and he laced their fingers together. Finally, he lined up his hips behind Stiles', allowing him to feel that he was aroused to hardness as well.

Derek brought their entwined hands to Stiles’ chest, feeling the strong, singing thrum of his heart beneath them. He was ready.

“May I?” he asked, marveling at how warm and solid Stiles’ body felt against his. Stiles relaxed against him and nodded in assent. “Yes.”

Derek finally allowed his fangs to drop, an icy blue haze clouding his vision and his sense of his husband's scent sharpening even more acutely. He touched his teeth to Stiles' skin so he knew to brace himself, then swiftly pierced the soft flesh in the claiming mark of mating. 

The bite lasted no more than a few seconds, but Derek felt the moments still and swirl around him in a drawn out haze. He knew magic existed — knew his new husband could practice it, even — but he had never paid much mind to the stories of mating magic or soulmates. As soon as he anchored himself to his newly wed husband, however, Derek felt a certainty and connection settle in him — one that couldn’t be described like any emotion he’d ever felt before. He thought, he _knew_ , that Stiles felt it too. He felt it in the way his lungs retracted sharply as his heart skipped a beat, his fingers tightening around Derek’s and the smallest whimper escaping his lips. He didn’t fight the bite, even subconsciously. His body moved closer to Derek’s, an implicit sign of the trust he placed in his new mate. Derek felt a new spike of attraction and affection bloom in his chest, and carefully retracted his fangs from the soft warmth of Stiles’ neck. He allowed himself a moment to pause, breathing in the scent of his new husband as deeply as he could. He felt dizzy, heady — he wanted to say something, anything, to Stiles, but couldn’t find the words. He settled instead for squeezing Stiles’ hand, and firmly pressed his lips in a kiss above the bite before pulling away.

Stiles glanced back at Derek, seemingly unsure what Derek wished him to do next. Derek stilled him with a gentle hand to his arm. “Let me.”

Two beads of blood had welled up on the back of Stiles’ neck; the bite was not intended to pierce too deeply, but some blood was inevitable. Derek reached for the cloth he had left on his bedside table, grateful for his foresight in the scattered hours before the wedding. He hadn’t expected Stiles to make any demands one way or another, but he had still wanted to be prepared for however the night ended up. Derek dampened the cloth in the bowl of water next to it and carefully pressed it to his husband’s neck. When Stiles flinched at the touch, Derek dropped his hands away immediately — _Did I hurt him?_

“Sorry,” Stiles murmured with a laugh. “’s just a little cold.” His bright amber eyes found contact with Derek’s, a soft smile — _that damn smile_ — playing at his lips. 

Derek stroked away the last of the blood, cupping his hand around the back of Stiles’ neck to drain any residual pain. “Are you — does it hurt too badly?” he asked, brow furrowed in concern.

“I think I’ll survive, husband.” _Husband._ The word, simple as it was, still stirred a deep satisfaction in Derek. Stiles was perfect, and he was his _husband_. 

Stiles rolled onto his back, hitching himself up slightly onto his elbows. Derek knew Stiles was simply shifting to a more comfortable position, but he couldn’t help but notice the way his husband’s cock still pressed against his shorts. His gaze flicked back up to Stiles’ face, and he felt his cheeks redden as Stiles gnawed absently at his bottom lip. 

“What’re you looking at?” said Stiles, voice breaking huskily.

Emboldened by his husband’s display, Derek leaned forward, bracketing himself over Stiles. “ _You,”_ he whispered, eyes moving pointedly to Stiles’ lips as their faces hovered inches apart.

As soon as the word left Derek’s lips, Stiles surged forward. His mouth knocked against Derek’s, but he barely felt the awkwardness of the movement as their lips pressed together. Stiles whimpered again, and Derek dropped his weight off his arms and pulled them onto their sides so they were facing one another. He quickly pulled his husband into another kiss, reveling in the sensation of Stiles’ lips, muscles, scent, sweat — he felt completely enveloped.

When Stiles pulled away, his pupils were blown. He clutched Derek’s arm as if it were anchoring him. A soft exclamation escaped his lips — “ _Wow.”_

Derek couldn’t help but laugh, drunk on lust and affection.  _“Wow,”_ he agreed, capturing Stiles’ lips in another soft, gentle kiss.

Stiles held his forehead against Derek’s, smiling softly over his husband’s mouth. “I think I’ll stay in your bed tonight, if that’s alright,” he said.

Derek pulled him closer, the lengths of their bodies pressed together. “ _Our_ bed. And it’s more than alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on Tumblr at sourwolfandlionheart for tons of Sterek yelling! Thanks so much for reading!


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